


Fate

by PrplGrl



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Original Fiction, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrplGrl/pseuds/PrplGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world that hates him, Caraenyl wishes to find his way within it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate

 

It was considered a “deformity,” the cat-like ears and tail Caraenyl had been born with. At first, his family simply tried to hide his differences; he could only wear hooded sweatshirts or knitted hats and kept his tail in his pants alongside a leg, which made sitting awkward. For a time it worked and Cara never complained about having to do so. As far as anyone outside his immediate family knew, he was a normal elf who had crooked ears. Caraenyl was content despite never being able to have friends over to his house or going to theirs.

This time was short-lived, however, as he would come to accept much later on that he had made a serious misjudgment when a child that forced his parents to pull him out of the school he was going to. From then on Cara was home schooled and kept inside, away from prying eyes and questions that could very easily ruin the extremely prominent family name that his mother had worked exceptionally hard for.

Cara’s looks were not all uncommon; there were many elves who were born more feline-esque over the years, but being that way was seen as a punishment, a brand of evil, something to be shunned and feared. For many years, Caraenyl sat in his room, gazing out his window, and longed to leave the confinements of his home.

Not that he felt he had a good reason to. His mother made sure he was taken care of; he always had homemade food, clean sheets and clothes, activities to keep himself occupied, and time outside if there were no guests. Caraenyl knew he had it pretty good. The news was full of stories that others like him weren’t nearly so lucky. Many of them wound up on the streets, starving, dying to the elements and violence. Very few shelters took in “cat-elves” like himself, many also seeing them more as wild beasts, and the voices crying out for the rights of them were very few. After spending many, many years waiting for **that** promise to be fulfilled, Cara finally lost hope.

However, it was still several years before he decided to leave.

A simple note was all he left behind; _Thank you for everything. Please don’t look for me. Forget and move on._

And so his life on the busy city streets began. Cara had grabbed enough simple food to last him a few days and he’d been lucky enough to safely hitchhike to a large city far south from his family. He had decided it was best to put as much distance as he could between them, more for the sake of his family. Caraenyl knew how much influence and power his family name had and didn’t want to cause a controversy.

He knew being homeless wasn’t going to be easy, but he found himself adjusting quickly. Cara didn’t always have food, but was usually able to find a mostly safe place to sleep and his extra-sensitive nose lead him to some of the best dumpsters in the city.

Although free from his family’s rules, Caraenyl still wore a hooded sweatshirt to hide his large cat ears and kept his tail in his pant leg. A few times he went against his better judgement and revealed what he was, only to be chased off, threatened, or nearly killed.

After two and a half months on his own, Cara had learned to keep to himself and trust no one. Fall was starting to settle in and he was beginning to worry; the nights were getting colder. He needed to find a new place to bed down fairly quickly, but all the spots he could think of were either not very safe or already taken.

His stomach growled loudly and Cara sighed. It had been a couple days since his last meal. Putting thoughts of a new sleeping place aside, he grabbed his backpack that held the few possessions he took with him and set off for an evening of dumpster-diving.

Caraenyl’s nose led him to one of the few dumpsters that actually had good things in it. He knew it was garbage, but he preferred to think of it as “leftovers,” since that seemed to be the only way for him to keep his appetite. At first he merely stood in the shadows of the alley, looking for any competition. Not seeing anyone else around, Cara approached the large green canister. Never knowing why, he inhaled and shivered pleasantly with a small smile on his lips. This dumpster sad behind a restaurant, Cara could never remember the name of it, but even the things that were thrown out smelled delicious. It reminded him of home, of happier times, and just for that moment he was content. Caraenyl did think it a little strange, that a mere scent could push away what his life was like now, make him forget his worries.

A gentle wind coursing through the alley jolted him from his daze and he shook his head. _Pull it together and stop wasting time_ , Cara berated himself. He put his pack down and gently pulled his specially-tailored glove off, frowning slightly at the furry, clawed hand it was hiding. While he had been born with the ears and tail, the fur and claws on his hands and feet didn’t grow in until he reached puberty, another thing his family had been quick to cover up.

Pushing those thoughts away, Cara reached out with his gloved hand to raise the dumpster’s lid. In that moment, the back door to the restaurant opened loudly, startling Caraenyl and he quickly turned, his glove flying several feet away. His teal-green eyes were locked on the person in the doorway, their back facing the terrified Cara as they said something to someone inside the building, two large garbage bags in each hand.

The runaway’s heart pounded as he panicked; many places did not look kindly on those sifting through their trash. The alley was just open enough that Caraenyl didn’t want to risk running, so he snatched up his backpack and ducked beneath some cardboard boxes that were collapsed and leaning against the dumpster. The person with the trash turned just as Cara hid and made his way toward Cara, the door closing loudly behind him.

Caraenyl recognized the tall man, his long strides quickly taking him to the dumpster; he’d seen him take out the trash before. The white chef’s coat he wore looked almost a size too small, Cara could clearly make out his muscles as they flexed, easily lifting what were probably fairly heavy trash bags into the green canister seemingly without much effort. His short, dark hair looked a bit messy and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, which he wiped away with his sleeve when he took a step back from the dumpster. He paused during the act, however, his gaze on the pavement a few feet away. Cara followed his gaze and had to stop himself from bounding forward. His glove lay forgotten and the runaway immediately shoved his still exposed hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt, nearly tearing a hole in it.

The chef moved over to Cara’s glove, his mouth curved with a curious frown, which was framed by a trimmed goatee, and crouched down to pick up the item.

 _Please throw it away, please throw it away_ , Caraenyl’s mind repeated as the chef looked over his glove. It would be easy to find amongst the garbage bags, but it seemed it was simply not the runaway’s evening.

A loud growl reverberated from Cara’s hiding place and he wrapped his arms tightly around his midsection. _Damnit! Of all the times to remind me I’m hungry!_ He glared down at his wrapped arms, praying he hadn’t been heard, but when he raised his eyes he found the chef staring right at him. Cara flinched and tried to sink back into the shadows, but to no avail. The chef stood and slowly walked toward the runaway’s hiding place, crouching before the darkness.

“Hello there,” his voice was soft and a bit deep and Cara would be lying to say it was not comforting. “Is this yours?” he wondered, holding the glove up.

Caraenyl nodded slowly, refusing to hold the chef’s gaze; he had learned that holding eye contact was a challenge and this man was much bigger than him in both height and muscle mass, plus Cara hadn’t eaten and would have no strength for a fight. Also, as strange as it was, those pale olive green eyes the chef had were… pretty, he thought. Another thing the runaway had learned, he could no longer want, because he couldn’t afford, pretty things.

“Why don’t you come out so I can give it to you?”

His body moved before Cara could even think it was a bad idea. _What am I doing?! Don’t believe he’s trustworthy!!_ He crawled out of the shadows and stood, his ungloved hand still hidden in his pocket. Caraenyl came up to the chef’s chest; he kept glancing up to see the other’s face and waited for his glove.

However, all the chef did was stare. His pale olive gaze remained on Cara and he began to fidget under the weight. Cara didn’t know what this man wanted, and he really didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out. He took a breath, about to ask if he could have his glove returned, when another gust of wind coursed through the alley, catching the runaway’s hood and pulling it off his head.

Caraenyl gasped in fear when he felt his ears spring free and he took a step back, heart pounding, hands shaking, and tail twitching beside his leg. He pressed his ears back, hoping to shelter his hearing from the shrill yells, harsh slurs, or hateful tone that was to come.

After five slow, fearful breathes, all Cara could hear were the noises of the street filtering through the alley. His ears lifted the slightest fraction as he dared a glance toward the chef.

He was still staring, but… his expression was not was the runaway was expecting. Although his eyes were a bit wide in surprise, Cara could not see and fear or hatred in them. Those pale green orbs gazed almost reverently at his ears, blinking slowly before moving down to lock with Caraenyl. The runaway felt his breath hitch at what was there, something he would never have expected to find; _caring_.

_Don’t trust him! Trust no one!_

Cara took in a few deep breathes; he shouldn’t trust anybody, and the thought of wanting to trust this man frightened him beyond measure. With that gaze still upon him, Caraenyl gathered his strength and bolted passed the chef, pulling his glove out of the other’s hand as he did, moving toward the street. He half jogged, shoving the glove in his mouth, then reaching back to pull the hood of his sweatshirt back over his head and yanking on the drawstrings to close it as he came up to the sidewalk.

“H-hey! Wait!” he heard the chef call out behind him, but Cara ignored it, sliding into the crowded sidewalk and slinking through the people, easily losing his would-be follower.

Caraenyl stopped a few blocks over to catch his breath and replace the glove on his hand. His heart was still pounding and he had to sit as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He leaned back against the wall and breathed slowly, although he couldn’t truly stop his hands from shaking. Cara needed to eat and badly. He took one last deep breath and stood; time to look elsewhere for a meal.

It was then he noticed the weight missing from his shoulder and he groaned a curse; he forgot about it when he was hiding. Not wanting to risk returning so soon, Cara decided to wait until after dark to retrieve it, although that went against his general rule of “no perusing in the dark.” _I’ll just be extra careful, but for now, I need food._

 

The search had been fruitless; Caraenyl’s bag was gone. He couldn’t help despairing about it, there were only a few things within, but they reminded him of happier times and brought comfort. Now he figured they were in the hands of some other homeless person who would have no idea of their worth… not that they would probably care.

Cara sighed sadly at the thought. He’d given that particular dumpster a wide berth since his strange encounter, finding a mouthful of food elsewhere, but never enough to stop looking. He was digging through a bag from a coffee shop, when he heard that voice.

“Why, look who it is!” The very sound of that human made Caraenyl want to retch. “Our favorite redhead!”

His lackeys laughed as Cara stood, glaring at Jon as he approached. “What do you want?” Cara all but sneered.

Jon’s grin was repulsive. “My due.”

Caraenyl raised an eyebrow in question. “Your ‘due?’”

“As I see it, Red, you owe me.”

He really hated that name and had to stop himself from punching the human right there; Cara still didn’t have the strength to fight, especially with three other human assholes following their prick leader. “I don’t see how I owe you anything,” the runaway responded.

Jon chuckled. “Oh how wrong you are!” He moved as he spoke, taking slow steps to stand behind Caraenyl. “I’ve been withholding information, Red. Information that could make your life a whole lot harder if more people knew.” The human leaned into Cara’s back, lips finding the base of his ear and whispering, “I wonder how many people would take pity on you once they know you’re nothing but an animal… a _pet_. I just want payment for ensuring that you get handouts.” Jon’s hand ghosted up Cara’s left leg to aggressively grab his rear.

Caraenyl had more strength than he realized; he immediately swung around, gloved hand making sharp contact with Jon’s face and making him stumble back several feet. Cara only wished he’d thought to remove his glove first.

The human groaned, hand cupping his surely sore cheek as he looked up at Cara, his smirk no longer present. “I _will_ … get what’s **due**!” He nodded to his lackeys and the runaway found himself being swarmed by three large humans.

Caraenyl cursed under his breath and glared as he backed away, knowing he only had a single option. Slapping a lone, unsuspecting human was one thing, facing three prepared humans was another. Taking a deep breath, he made his choice and quickly turned, running off into the alley, four humans at his heel, and hoping to be able to stay on his feet long enough to get away.

 

Dark red hair, skin the color of moon light, eyes a bright shade of teal-green, and those ears! They were large and looked very soft, encased in fur the same color as that thick mane; never before had he’d wanted to touch something so badly before.

That was all Merekai Korveris could think about, _he_ was all the chef could think about, since his encounter with the dumpster-diver two days ago. He hadn’t meant to scare the poor thing off, had wanted to offer a hot meal, but his words died in his throat once he got a glimpse into the shorter man’s eyes. They were full of fear, apprehension, and once his ears were exposed, Kai understood why.

He’d heard of the cat-elves, everyone had, but most kept away from others. As far as Kai knew, he had never met one before, however did know their plight and felt it to be unfair. The chef wished he could have talked to the gorgeous creature he met, once again berating himself at getting star struck and simply staring.

Kai released a short, frustrated sigh as he pulled into the parking lot of his restaurant, Ava’s Kitchen. It was mid-morning, the last of the breakfast rush were just clearing out and he waved at the regulars as he pulled into his personal space. As was becoming his new routine, the chef didn’t head directly into the building; he took a slight detour and let his eyes linger on the alley space behind the restaurant, where the garbage dumpster stood. Nothing appeared to be disturbed or out of place and Kai had to stop himself from feeling disappointed. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the redhead never came around again; Merekai knew he could be intimidating, but he still hoped.

Rekindling that feeling, Kai finally entered his restaurant, smiling and waving to employees and customers as he made his way to the kitchen. He was quickly greeted by his first shift chef and business partner Lindiriel Artamais. Standing just a few inches below Kai’s height of 6’5”, Iriel was pretty intimidating herself, but it was her stature only. Kai wasn’t sure he had ever met someone as kind and gentle as her.

Iriel smiled kindly, clipboard in hand as Merekai put on his chef’s coat. “Looking for your redhead again?” she teased, silvery eyes twinkling.

Kai shook his head, even as he grinned. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

The elf shrugged. “I’ve never seen you act that way before, Kai, as if the fates had placed your soulmate at your feet only for you to watch him walk away.”

“He _ran_ away,” Merekai corrected, walking past her to check on the deliveries they’d gotten that morning.

“And from what you told me, you still just watched him go,” she continued, following him and handing him the clipboard. “You hesitated, Kai. In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve _never_ hesitated! Whenever you see something you want, you’re always making an attempt at it!”

Kai rolled his eyes before glancing down the list. “He wasn’t a _business proposition_ , Iriel.” He opened the large door to the cooler, looking over the produce and making sure his hired cooks were using the freshest ingredients.

“Neither was Avalina.”

Hearing her name again made Kai pause; even after nearly five years, the name of his late wife still stung deeply. Breathing through his nose and forcing himself to concentrate, he continued down his list.

“I saw it in your eyes then, too, you know,” Iriel went on, still on the taller man’s heels. “That look of awe and wonder. Did you hesitate then?”

“Iriel,” Merekai warned softly, feeling his focus slipping as the memories came back, coating his mind like melted wax, bringing with them a stinging comfort.

“No, you didn’t. You immediately marched up to her and in the most polite voice I’ve ever heard you use asked if she was single and then invited her out on a date! If you had any doubts, you obviously threw them to the side in exchange for making sure she knew how you felt and asking for a chance. Which she was very happy to give you, if the look of joy on her face was anything to go by—”

“Iriel, your point?” Kai cut in, tone slightly agitated as he dropped the clipboard to his side to scowl at his partner.

The elf’s expression softened, as she stood close to him, gently grasping his forearm. “My point is: what happened? You were out there for over ten minutes that evening and all you did was… _stare_?”

Merekai sighed and gestured for them to leave the cooler. He led them to the office, where he closed the door and sat heavily upon the desk. “I… don’t know what happened,” he confessed. “It just… seemed to happen so fast and he was so beautiful… and he wasn’t Ava.” Another breath passed his lips and he shook his head in confusion. “I guess I was afraid. To feel like that for someone again, like I did for Ava, but it’s not her… I think that scared me.” Kai’s gaze fell to the floor as they began to sting.

Lindiriel was immediately standing before him, gently holding his hands and whispering words in that motherly tone she always had, “It’s alright, Kai. I know you still miss Avalina terribly, we all do, but you have to know she wouldn’t want you to pine her forever.”

Kai nodded silently, taking a deep breath and keeping the tears at bay. He looked up when Iriel placed a comforting hand on his broad shoulder.

“We will find him, okay?” she reassured with a warm smile. Kai could never resist smiling back when she did that. Her smile widened and she leaned in for a hug. Kai always did like her hugs; they were genuine and truly did bring comfort.

A knock came at the door as they pulled away, one of the younger cooks’ voice carrying through the door in a nervous tone. “E-excuse me, but the early lunch rush is starting.”

Kai chuckled. “Guess we better get back to work.”

“Yes, before our crew has a freak out.” They both chuckled and resumed with taking orders, making occasional walks out amongst the customers, and helping the cooks with orders they might not be familiar with yet. The day was shaping to be pretty normal, until about noon, just as the rush was really starting to pick up. Kai just happened to look out one of the large windows within the kitchen and his heart leapt into his throat.

The hooded figure ran out from the alley, familiar pale skin slightly flushed when he stopped a moment, taking large gulps of air, long tresses of deep red hair falling around his face from beneath the hood. Three large humans quickly followed and the redhead seemed to trip over himself, falling to the pavement as they approached him. Kai could feel his hands tighten into fists as two of the men hauled the redhead back up onto his feet and a fourth human, shorter and skinnier than the others, came up to them. His glare was fearsome as he looked at their captive and his arm moved, one dirty fist making hard contact with the redhead’s face.

Kai was suddenly moving, he vaguely heard Iriel’s voice behind him, but he was already pushing open the back door, his heart pounding as he jogged up to the group. “Hey!” he shouted; the two holding the redhead had started to drag him back into the alley.

They stopped at his call, the smaller man turning his glare upon Kai. “Stay out of this, I’ve got business with this freak.”

Merekai felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle and he clenched his fists tighter. “Let him go,” he growled.

The shorter human laughed. “Was that a threat? Listen, cook, Red here owes me a back payment. It’s time he paid up.”

“I owe him nothing!” the redhead wheezed, a large bruise beginning to form upon his flushed cheek.

“The hell you don’t!” the human snapped. “You want me to go to the cops and tell them what you are? Tell this _asshole_ what you are?!”

“I already know,” Kai said, keeping a close eye on the men holding the redhead.

The loudmouth seemed to be taken aback by that. “You do? Well, then maybe you should be taking a payment from him as well. But not before me.” He made a hand gesture and the larger goons continued dragging the redhead deeper into the alley.

“You will let him go!” Kai demanded, his voice deeper.

“Or what?” the human responded, not looking back as he followed his lackeys.

“This.” Merekai said it softly as he called upon the power within himself, quickly transforming into his wolf-like form, his clothes stretching with him as he grew taller and broader. Although his shoes busted at the seams as his feet expanded and turned into clawed paws.

The human finally turned, but it was too late, Kai’s reflexes were sharp as he dashed down to his right and leapt at the shorter human, fist connecting with his stomach. The human flew back a few feet, landing hard on his back and moaning as he wrapped his arms around his midsection.

“Boss!” one of the lackeys holding the redhead shouted.

“Fuck, he’s a wolven!” the other exclaimed as the third came in to attack.

Kai easily avoided the clumsy left hook, his sharp ears and now glowing pale eyes quickly picking up the oaf’s terrible style of “fighting” and finding all the holes in his defense. Kai ducked from another swing and grabbed the other’s ankle, pulling him off his feet and using the momentum and weight to flip the human around. He landed face-down, blood streaming from his nose when he looked up, eyes unfocused and confused.

The chef straightened himself to full height, a good foot taller than he was, his tail swishing behind him as he took slow steps toward the remaining humans, the nose upon his muzzle twitching, almost reveling in the fear he smelled.

“S-stay back!” the one on the left stuttered, pulling out a knife and holding it to the redhead’s throat.

Merekai halted, growling a low warning as he spread his clawed hands, “You hurt him, I do worse to you.”

The human held his ground, grip tightening on the knife, but he didn’t say anything.

“It’s not him you should be worried about,” the redhead voiced suddenly, slowly turning his head to lock gazes with the knife-bearer. A look of confusion passed over the human’s face before the redhead continued, “it should be me.” The movement was so sudden, Kai almost missed it; the redhead reached up, grabbing the human’s wrist and pulling him down while lifting his own knee up, connecting solidly with the human’s groin. He was barely on the ground when, in a single movement, the redhead pulled his right hand back, removing the glove upon it and spinning around, swinging his sharp claws at the dumbfounded human’s face. Blood trickled from four fairly shallow scratches across face, but it was definitely enough to make him stumble backwards and away from the redhead, who moved towards Kai.

The wolven caught the shaky redhead gently by his upper arms, quickly checking him over to see if he was hurt.

The humans regrouped, their loudmouth leader still holding his midsection as he glared. “Fine, you want that freak so fucking badly? Take him! Let’s go.” They hobbled back down the alley, the lackeys complaining about their injuries as they went.

Kai took a deep breath, calming the more bestial side of himself and reverted back into his more human form. He looked down to see the redhead staring at him, but those blazing teal-green eyes no longer had fear in them. They flashed with curiosity and maybe even a hint of wonder, which made the wolven smile a bit.

A small wave of panic hit him, however, when the redhead’s eyes suddenly rolled up into his head and he became limp in Merekai’s arms. He cursed and carefully laid the smaller man down upon the pavement, checking his pulse.

“Kai!”

The wolven glanced up to see Iriel running toward him, and also saw the concerned faces staring through the large windows in the restaurant. He felt himself blush a bit as he turned his attention back to the redhead, Iriel coming to stand beside him.

“Is he alright?” she asked.

“I… think so,” Kai responded, feeling the smaller man’s pulse even out and remain steady over a few minutes. “Probably just needs some food.” Although the clothing the redhead wore was loose-fitting, Merekai could tell he hadn’t had a good meal in quite some time.

“You want to take him inside?”

Kai shook his head, “No, not after all those people witnessed that display.” His eyes lingered on the redhead’s pale face, hating the slight troubled expression he had, even unconscious. Gently, the wolven placed the back of his fingers against the redhead’s cheek, as if checking for a fever, watching as his expression slowly eased into something more neutral. Kai made his vow then and simply stated, “I’ll take him home.”

_Where you belong._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment, if you feel so inclined! :) <3
> 
> The wonderful characters of Merekai and Lindiriel belong to Art-by-G and used with permission!


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